Right on schedule. This happens every year like clockwork. I start the month strong, knock something off the needles that's been hanging around 95% done, then turn my attention and focus to the next things on the list...only to rediscover why they weren't done to begin with.
Jess' Cowl is coming along -- I'm about 9 of (probably) 15 repeats in. (I say 'probably' because Jess, who is considerably ahead of me on this endeavor, made it to 15 before running out of yarn. Gauge being what it is, my mileage may vary.)
Carl's socks aren't much further along than they were -- which is only to be expected as they were only meant to be purse knitting anyway.
Rowan's sweater, you'll be relieved to hear, is not only back to where I started before the Great Frogging last weekend, but actually a bit beyond.
|If it doesn't fit him this time, I may make him eat it.|
I spent most of last week plugging along on these three projects feeling terribly ho-hum about all of it. There was so much sighing you'd swear I was a teenager suddenly cut off from cell-phone privileges. Then it hit me.
Take a close look at those three projects. Notice anything?
Like how they are all blue. Or beige. Or blue and beige? Like how they are all three gift knits?
Now, mind you, I'm happy to be making all three, and willingly undertook to do so. I love the people I'm knitting for and will be pleased as punch to hand over the completed goods.
But I'm an inherently selfish knitter at heart. I don't mean to be, but I am. Once I realized the cause of all my knitting malaise I realized there was only one thing to do.
|You can't see, but there's a hippo in there.|